Echos of Their Story
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: Given to the Crown Prince/Princess of the Vinkus, she'd discover love from people she was supposed to fear. She'd hold a special role in the household, & heart of a young man who'd capture her heart from the moment she laid eyes on him. This is her story.
1. Chapter 1

**Echo of Their Story**

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Summary: She was young, an innocent child, taken prisoner during a conquest and raid on her village and tribe. Given to the Crown Prince and Princess of the Vinkus as a gift, a servant, the child would discover acceptance and love from people she was supposed to fear. And eventually, she would hold a special role in the household, and in the heart of a young man who would capture her heart from the moment she laid eyes on him. This, is her story. Pre-Journey On.**

There was nothing out of the ordinary that hot summer day.

She'd woken early, rushed down to the river with her sisters and brother, and bathed in the cool water under the watchful eye of her grandfather. When they returned to the small cabin, they noticed their father heading off to hunt, his rifle in hand. Their mother was inside, rocking their baby brother to sleep. Their mother watched her older children play, relished in the laughter of her children and the calmness of the morning.

None knew of what was to come.

Around noon, the smell of smoke reached the village, before the sounds of gunfire cracked the sky. In a matter of moments, chaos broke out and the girl found herself running from the troops. Gripping her younger sisters's hands, she rushed through the village, trying hard to keep one step ahead of the men chasing after them. Pain coursed through her side, her legs cried out in protest, but she didn't stop running, didn't reliquish the hands of her siblings, didn't look back. She could hear the horses hooves beat the ground behind them, and she sped up, urging her sisters to follow. But it was no use. Suddenly, she was grabbed around the waist, lifted, screaming onto the horse, and taken away.

When she awoke next, she found herself in a small room, bound and gagged, alone. The door opened and she looked up, to see a man enter. He made his way towards her, and she tried to back up, only to find her back pressed against the wall. He knelt down in front of her; and held out a bowl. Her eyes quickly dashed to the bowl before returning to him. Whimpering, she tried to back away, when she felt the cloth he'd dipped into the bowl on her face. He whispered softly to her, trying to calm her as he cleaned her face. She couldn't understand him, he spoke in a foreign tongue that was strange to her ears.

It took several minutes before she choked out, "Denaa" through the gag. He gave her a strange look before setting the bowl down. Then, he reached out and gently removed the gag.

"Denaa."

He shook his head, not understanding. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened and another man entered. The one who had brought the bowl stood and went to him. They talked for several minutes, before the man came back and knelt in front of her. Slowly, he placed the gag back into her mouth, and when she cried out, he pressed a finger to his lips. He carried her out of the room, and twenty minutes later, she was in the back of a wagon, with two other girls.

Her sisters.

The girls cuddled up together, allowing their fear to be displaced by happiness at being reunited again as they rode. They rode for days, stopping at various times to eat or walk. Neither girl thought of running for they were too scared. When they reached the border, her younger sisters were taken out of the wagon and walked a ways, leaving her alone.

"Denaa! Detia!"

The girls turned back to her, but the men forced them to face front. When they were a good twenty feet from the wagon, one man raised his rifle, leveled it with the back of the older girl's head, and fired, before turning and doing the same to the younger girl. She knew what had happened, and screamed and cried, howling her sisters' names and trying to get out of her bonds.

As they crossed the border, she refused to take her eyes off the bodies of her younger sisters, her screams echoing in the desert.

She awoke to the sound of unfamiliar voices, and then found herself being led into a huge room.

"Your Majesties." She watched the men standing with her bow, and slowly, turned, to see a couple sitting on a pair of thrones several feet away from her. A younger couple stood off to the side, talking softly together. When the men straightened, the older man sitting on the throne beckoned them closer. "We captured her as she was rushing from the village. Her and her sisters."

After a moment, the man stood and made his way to her, kneeling down to examine her. "She is a beautiful child. Such striking eyes." He whispered, staring into her face.

"Where are the others? The other girls?" The others turned to look at the younger woman, who had come to the edge of the dias.

"We killed the younger girls, Your Highness."

The girl gasped, covering her mouth.

"Yes, well, take her to the servants quarters."

"But Your Majesty, wouldn't she be more suited for the dungeons-"

"She's a child! Not a political prisoner!" The older man snapped, returning to the throne. "Now, do as I say!"

The men nodded, excused themselves, and took the child to the servants quarters. When the guards were gone, she sat on the ground in the corner, too frightened to move or call out. It wasn't until the door opened and someone entered that she cried out and backed up against the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

The person moved towards her, eventually kneeling in front of her, and she saw that it was the princess. The girl couldn't have been much older than fourteen at most, with long auburn hair pulled back in an elegant twist. She wore a gown of mint green, and the girl found herself looking into violet eyes. The girl's tan skin was beautiful, much lighter than her own, and she found herself silently admiring the girl. After several moments, the girl reached out, removed the gag, and dropped it before reaching out to brush her hair out of her face. However, the girl backed away when she reached to undo the ropes tying her wrists.

"Hush. I won't hurt you. I promise." Sensing the gentle tone of her voice, the younger girl relaxed, letting her untie her hands and feet. "There." She sat back on her heels, examining the girl quietly. "What's your name?" The younger girl stared at her, not understanding. "How old are you?" Again, another strange look. "Where-"

"Making friends with the hired help again, Chelseqa?"

She turned, her mouth dropping, only to relax.

"As opposed to you, Suqari?" She retorted, raising an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not the one trying to make friends with the new servant girl." He replied, entering the room and joining her. He knelt down next to her, and the girl backed away again.

"You're scaring her, Suqari!" The princess snapped, turning back to the girl. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"She can't understand you, Chelseqa. She's probably a mute."

"She's not a mute, Suqari! She's just scared." Then, she stood, the man following. "Come on." She held out her hand to the girl. "I won't hurt you." After several minutes, the girl reached up, taking her hand. They followed the young man, going into the kitchen. As the princess settled the younger girl into a chair at the table, one of the maids came up to stop her.

"Your Highness! She's can't- you can't bring an urchin in-"

"She's not an urchin, Mikra, she's our new servant girl. Now, please, get her something hot to eat, would you?" The maid didn't move. "Now!"

"Yes, ma'am." And after curtsying, she did as told. A bowl of soup was set in front of the girl, but she didn't touch it, instead, she stared at it. Her head snapped to the side when the princess took a seat next to her. Instantly, the girl pushed the bowl towards her, but the young princess pushed it back towards her.

"No, no, it's yours. You must be starving. Go on, eat." Realizing that the girl didn't understand, she made an eating motion with her hand, before picking up an extra spoon and dipping it in the bowl. Then, she brought it to her lips and took a bite, before handing the second spoon to the younger girl. The princess nodded quickly to the bowl, and then she watched, as the girl slowly followed her example. A smile spread over the princess's face as she watched the girl eat. Once the girl finished, the princess helped her out of the chair and took her upstairs. "Tai, draw a hot bath!"

"For you princess?" The maid asked, meeting her mistress halfway down the hall.

"No, for her." Chelseqa said, pulling the girl forward.

"Her?" The princess nodded. "But-"

"Do it Tai."

"Yes, Your Highness."

When the bath had been drawn, she had been cleaned up and given clean clothes, the princess led her into a small room that was part of the servants quarters. "This is your bed." The girl stared at her, before going to the bed and climbing under the covers. Smiling at her softly, the princess leaned down and kissed her forehead once she was settled, before leaving. "Good night." The girl didn't say anything, but turned to the window across from her bed and stared at the moon. In the silence, she let her tears fall.

Once the door closed behind her, she went to the boudior and undressed, pulling on her nightgown.

"What did you do with the girl?" She turned, to see her husband sitting against the headboard, reading.

"She's asleep in the extra room of the servants quarters. Why?"

"Just curious."

"You? Curious? Suqari, you're never 'just curious.'" She replied, climbing into bed next to him and snuggling onto his chest. He closed his book, set it on the nightstand, removed his reading glasses and snuffed out the light, snuggling down with his wife.

"I just... she's what? No older than ten? What are we going to do with a girl?"

"She'll be a scullery maid, Suqari. They'll teach her the rules of the household."

"We don't even know her name, Chelseqa. We don't know where she's from, who her parents were, what tribe or village she's from- we know none of that."

"Hush Suqari, we can find that all out tomorrow."

"But-"

"Hush. Now kiss me goodnight."

Sighing, he did so, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"She's from Ugabu, one of the Ughi tribes. She's about ten or so."

"And she's here, in an unfamiliar land, alone."

"Please, _please_, try not to get attached, Chelseqa." Suqari whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. She turned in his embrace and stared at him.

"How can I not, Suqari? Father gave her to us as a gift._ A gift_. She's not a gift, Suqari, she's a human being! She had parents and siblings and-"

"Shh. I know. I know."

"It's not fair." Chelseqa said, turning back towards the window, tears sliding gently down her cheeks. He sighed and rested his chin against her shoulder. He sighed.

"Come on. Let's go meet her."

When they entered the kitchen, Suqari asked the head cook if they could borrow the girl, and once they had permission, they led her upstairs to the library. When they were all seated, Chelseqa asked, "What's your name?"

The girl stared at her strangely, before looking around. Silent, she slipped off the sofa and wandered around the room, eventually stopping in front of the flickering candles. Slowly, she reached up, gently running her fingers over the flames.

"Candle? Is your name Candle?"

She didn't respond.

"W... would you like that to be your name?" The girl looked up when the Crown Princess laid a hand on her shoulder. "Candle?" After a moment, the girl nodded. "Then we'll call you Candle."

They spent the rest of the afternoon teaching her Vinkun, going over her pronounciation and helping her with her speech. When she returned to the kitchens, she knew several words and small phrases in the Vinkun tongue, and tried to apply them to her job. Her job was simple, wipe down the table and counters, dry the utensils, plates, bowls and glasses, and let the older girls put them away.

"Fold these and place these on the counter." Mirka said, setting a basket of cloth dinner napkins in front of her. The girl watched her quickly fold one and then followed suite, taking her time to get everything right. She took two hours, wanting to make sure the rest of the staff were happy with her folding. If she did what she was told, maybe she wouldn't be turned out into the street.

"We have a special request for dinner tonight!" The cook cried, hurrying into the room. She'd just finished talking to the king, and now turned to the rest of her kitchen staff. "The Ambassador to the City is coming to dinner tonight! The king specifically requested fowl tonight. Which means we need to make sure this place is spik and span." She turned to the girl. "You! Go fill those buckets with soapy water and scrub the floors. Well don't just sit there, do it!"

Quickly, the girl did as told, disappearing into the main parlor hall and setting to work.

She picked up the conversation as she worked, listening to the maids as they went from room to room, cleaning and making sure everything was prepared. She didn't see either the Crown Prince or Princess until later that night, when the princess entered the kitchen, in search of the head cook.

"Your Highness."

"Father just wanted me to make sure that everything was ready, since the ambassador will be here soon."

"We do, Your Highness."

"Good." She glanced at the girl, before turning and leaving the kitchen. When dinner rolled around the family and their guest were served, the kitchen staff soon found that they could relax and have dinner as well. With a plate in front of her, she settled at the kitchen table with Mikra, the junior kitchen-maid. They ate in silence, before Mikra said,

"You like the princess, don't you?"

The girl gave her a funny look.

"You don't have to hide it, it's obvious you're intrigued by her. She's the most interesting person I'm sure you'll ever meet. But not me. I want to see the world. I want out of this kitchen, this castle. I don't want to be here for the rest of my life. You will be though. You'll never leave this family, I know you won't. Even when they're grown and have their own children and grandchildren and great-great-great grandchildren, you won't leave. You'll die here, working for them. And they won't give you the time of day."

Slowly, the girl looked around, before turning back to the older one.

"The princess might be nice to you now, but she'll out grow you; she'll have babies and be too preoccupied to care about a lowly scullery maid. She'll rule the Vinkus and you'll just be a servant, like the rest of us. You'll never change. You'll never do anything else. And while you may not hate it because you don't know any better, I do. I hate it so much. I didn't even want to be here. My parents sold me to a farmer who sold me to the king and queen. I hate this castle and I hate them and I want out."

Silence filled in the gaps, and the child ate her dinner, glancing every so often at Mikra, who had quieted. She didn't say anything, but knew that she'd just been told a secret, and was supposed to keep it; and she would. She made a promise to herself that she would, unless forced to tell.

The next morning, it was discovered that Mikra had run off with the gardener's oldest son.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: This chapter jumps ahead six months, because something major happens. **

**Thanks to lizziemagic and Issa(dot)wicked17 for reviewing 3.**

Six months had passed, and in that time, she'd risen from scullery maid to kitchen maid. Hard work had become a part of her vocabulary, and she was now able to speak fluently in the Vinkun tongue- which meant conversing with the princess was easier, and eavesdropping on the scullery maids became much more fun when she was able to understand what they were saying.

"Tea, please? Candle!" The girl's head snapped up from the silver she was polishing. "Tea?" She nodded, dropping the cloth and hurrying to fix the tea for the young princess. "No, no, we'll take it in the library." The girl nodded, understanding.

Twenty minutes later, she entered the library and quickly glanced around. The Crown Prince was engaged in a game of chess with his father, while his wife sat in the windowseat, staring outside at the rain as it pelted the ground and windowpane, a forelorn look on her pretty face. The queen, meanwhile, was sitting in an armchair, reading a novel. They all looked up when she set the tray on the table and poured the tea.

"Thank you, Candle." Chelseqa said, accepting her cup.

"Welcome." She whispered, curtsying quickly before leaving and returning to the kitchen. Once there, she took a seat at the table and began shelling peas like she'd been asked to do earlier by Cook. So engrossed in her work was she, that she didn't notice the person come up behind her until they laid a hand on her shoulder. She jumped in surprise and knocked the bowl over.

"I'm sorry Candle, I didn't mean to startle you."

She knelt down quickly to pick up the peas, and once they were all back in the bowl and she'd returned to her seat, she realized that the princess was sitting next to her. Chelseqa watched her for several minutes before speaking.

"You seem to be settling down here nicely, Candle." The girl kept quiet. "I'm sorry for what happened to your sisters."

"Thank you." She whispered, glancing quickly at her mistress. Chelseqa didn't say anything for several minutes, before,

"Come take a walk with me." And she stood. The girl watched her.

"N... now..."

Chelseqa nodded, turning back to the girl. "Yes. Now."

"But I- Cook-"

"Cook may be your boss, but I am your mistress. My word has more weight that hers." She crossed her arms over her small chest. "Now come." Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she did as told, following her young mistress out of the kitchen and up the stairs. They walked down the corridors in silence, eventually coming to a door. Quickly, Chelseqa pushed the door open, and hurried inside, beckoning Candle to follow. Once inside, she shut the door behind her, and then went to the window. It was then that Candle got a good look at the room.

It was small, just big enough for a small child. Which is exactly what it was for- an infant, actually. She saw the cradle, the small boudior, a rocking chair... and then she turned to her mistress.

_Was she...?_

"I lost it." A confused look came over the girl's face, as her mistress slowly turned to face her. "I lost the baby."

"B... baby?"

Chelseqa nodded, swallowing.

"Two months ago. I... I would have been a... a mother in two months time, if I hadn't lost it. Still..." Candle swallowed, finding it difficult due to the lump in her throat. After a moment, Chelseqa slid down the wall, sitting on the floor and pulling her legs to her chest. "I... I was carrying the heir." Tears slid down her cheeks, and she began fiddling with her skirt. Slowly, Candle moved closer, finally sitting down beside her mistress. "I just knew... I knew I was carrying the heir. I just... I knew..."

After a moment, the young maid reached out and laid a hand on her mistress's arm in comfort. The gentle contact seemed to give the princess courage to continue. Meeting Candle's eyes, she said,

"I didn't mean too... it just happened... I started to bleed, and then..." Chelseqa broke down then, burying her face in Candle's shoulder. The intimate contact startled the girl, and after several moments, she wrapped the older girl in her arms.

_Two months ago._

In the back of her mind, Candle remembered waking up to the household in a frenzy; lights being lit, water being boiled, the doctor being called... maids being called upstairs, only to return in minutes with bloody rags and towels. Prayers being whispered in frantic voices; the smell of antispetic permeating the air; the screams that echoed through the castle... and then, the sight of the doctor carrying a bundle of bloodied rags, instructing the gardeners to give it a "proper burial", before handing over the bloody bundle.

_Still..._

Now she understood.

The chaos of that night had left little time for thinking, and even less for understanding, but now it all made sense.

The bundle of blankets had been her mistress's child.

The screams had been ones of childbirth, the antiseptic for pain.

The child had been stillborn; it hadn't lived long enough to take its first breath.

As she held her mistress close, comforting her with her presence, she prayed with all her might that the next child her mistress would have would be strong and healthy.


End file.
